


I've Always Lived in Your Heart, and Under Your Skin

by Sweetlittlelwt



Series: Read To Me, Sweetheart [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gay Sex, I can't tag to save my life, I tried to funny, I'm Sorry, It's kind of sad, Louis just thinks they did, M/M, Misunderstandings, Past established Relationship, Smut, all is well, also, but the ending is worth it, enjoy anyways, mention of Harry and Nick but they didn't really do anything, rebuilding relationships, sorry if i'm not, the death of a family member, there's some fluff in there to, they broke up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6917410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetlittlelwt/pseuds/Sweetlittlelwt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But fuck, Louis’ mother has just passed away and he’s left alone… except Harry’s here. For the first time when Louis needs him, he’s here, with his arms wide open and his eyes wet and his lips parted like he wants to say a million things at once, but he knows he shouldn’t. Knows he can’t, but he’s here…</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Always Lived in Your Heart, and Under Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I want to thank some important people. Lex, thank you sooo much for putting up with me and giving me the courage to do things I was afraid to do when I first met you. Thank you for believing in me. Next, I want to thank Stacy for being amazing to me, for defending me and being just a sweetheart in general. Lastly, I want to thank my beta Tara for looking over the work. I'm not sure if you ever got to beta'ing the whole thing, but that's okay. Thanks for your feedback (:
> 
> Also! The song Harry sings in the story is actually a song I originally wrote called Sleep. It’s a lullaby that I hold near and dear to my heart - in case you were wondering.
> 
> And lastly, Here are some songs I had in mind and on repeat while writing this Fic.  
> Nana - The 1975  
> Slow Dancing in a Burning Room - John Mayer  
> Smother - Daughter  
> Coming Home - Gavin James  
> Heal - Tom Odell  
> Incomplete - James Bay  
> Two Hearts - Gavin James  
> All I Want - Kodaline  
> For You - Gavin James  
> Run To You - Pentatonix  
> I Found - Acoustic - Amber Run  
> I Can't Help Falling Inlove With You - Haley Reinhart
> 
> I even had the decency of creating a spotify playlist for you! You're welcome.  
> Spotify Playlist

How he is able to control his composure with every soul still lingering around, he isn’t sure. Maybe he’s numb, maybe he forget how to feel in the very moment the person who brought him life, took it back with her. He had never longed for soft warm rosy cheeks; the softest touch the universe could offer him and the hesitant smile ever so present on thin lips, so much.

All Louis could do was stare ahead, wonder where his mind ran away to when everyone was still milling around, tears shed and wiped clean. Fizzy and Lottie hugging Daisy and Phoebe to their chest, while the smallest twins screamed and wined for the one person they just couldn’t have back.

And that’s just it, wasn’t it?

He wouldn’t ever hear such wise words again, wouldn’t ever feel the touch of cold fingers against his cheek, or a soft laugh that soaked the house in welcoming warmth, like a flashlight in the middle of a storm.

It’s cold. That’s the only thing Louis can seem to focus on at this very moment because he can’t breathe. And his heart is knocking and ragging against his chest, weeping against his ribcage like a prisoner in a cell where he didn’t belong. And it’s cold. And it’s seeping through his dress pants, crawling up his arms and chattering his teeth. It’s shaking his unuseful fingers and it’s just so fucking cold.

“Louis… we have to take the twins home, they’re restless.” And he can hear her, but he can’t bring himself to turn towards her. He can’t seem to face the tear treks staining her pretty face, not right now. He can’t bear to see the burning red in her eyes, the smeared makeup she spent all morning trying to perfect. He can’t listen to the little ones scream and cry for their mother, and it’s selfish, it’s so damn selfish and he knows it – but he also knows he just wouldn’t be able to hold himself together.

Because it’s all on him; He has to be the older brother, the parent, the one to maintain a household with only his minimum wage job, and it was his idea to move to the states wasn’t it? so he could pursue acting, live out his dreams in the states where everyone would know his name and love his face. How silly it is now, looking back at it, and he wonders if he hadn’t made such a rash decision, would his mother still be here?

He gives himself a moment to wonder where his father might be, if he’s gotten remarried. If he would pity them enough to maybe send some money their way – but he’s much too prideful to ask such a low life for anything. Still, bitterly, he wonders if the arsehole is happy. But it’s only a moment because soon Daisy and Phoebe are running into his arms, crowding his space, soaking his shirt in pitiful tears.

And he holds them close, like a big brother should, like a guardian should. And he knows he would do anything for these girls, protect them with his life, and he’s already going through all the openings he remembers seeing – wonders when he’ll find the time to apply to as many jobs as possible in between putting the littlest ones to bed and providing dinner for them. He knows he can’t cook to save his life, can’t even manage to toast bread correctly...

But he’ll learn, and his whole body wants to feel hopeful, but right now he’s tired, sadness running through his veins like acid and attacking his nerves like a disease… but he promised himself he wouldn’t cry. Not in front of them, not when they need someone to be strong.

“Go on home, okay? I love you all, and I’ll be there soon I promise. Give the twins a bath okay Lots? I know, I know,” He interrupts as Charlotte, the oldest under him parts her lips to argue, “but I have to say goodbye... okay? Let me have this… and I’ll come home and we’ll make a fort or something. How does baking cookies sound?”

Lottie gives him an unsure look, like she thinks he might disappear to, but he just holds open his arms and drops to one knee so that he can hold all of his family, hold them all close and wipe away the fallen tears.

“I love you all very much, and we’re going to be okay. Okay?” Louis promises, giving them all a kiss on the forehead, even gifting them with a watery smile but he never lets the water spill over – not when it starts to burn, and he has to lift his head to the ceiling and take a deep breath. “I’ll see you guys at home, okay?”

Fizzy holds the church doors open and Lottie helps usher everyone through, and the last thing he hears before the world around him grows silent is, “Mommy!” From Ernest, and he knows they must’ve burst into tears once again and it seems that that’s Louis’ breaking point.

He has to physically grab his chest, as he feels like he might choke and he falls to the floor in his sobs, holding his face in his hands to shield himself away from any intruder – even though he’s one hundred percent sure he’s alone… except he’s not.

He can hear the click of boots down the rows of seats, sniffles coming from somewhere closer and he can feel the presence before he sees him, knows exactly who it is from the fruity cologne staining his shirt and fuck, this is the last person Louis wants to see right now, so he doesn’t turn around.  
But he doesn’t have to, because Harry has always been bigger, stronger in more ways than one and he easily lifts Louis up, and into his lap. They’re seated against the flooring, while he cries in Louis’ hair and Louis cries into his chest and fuck… Louis knows he should just pull away. Wipe his tears and go home to his family, his family that still needs him.

But fuck, Louis’ mother has just passed away and he’s left alone… except Harry’s here. For the first time when Louis needs him, he’s here, with his arms wide open and his eyes wet and his lips parted like he wants to say a million things at once, but he knows he shouldn’t. Knows he can’t, but he’s here…

And he’s holding Louis so close to his chest, which makes Louis feel as though he can’t breathe for another reason and his skin is a blaze, burning, scorching and destroying his insides. He tries to regain his breath, but he can’t do it. He doesn’t know when his fist became tangled in Harry’s shirt, but he doesn’t let go, he can’t let go and he doesn’t know what that means.

“Why are you here… why now.” Louis all but chokes out, and it comes out so quietly – he’s surprised Harry even hears him.

“I’m not here for you… I’m here because a woman that I loved deeply passed away, don’t flatter yourself.” Harry says, little scoff to his voice and Louis guess he deserves that. Still, he winces and maybe he’s a little relieved because he doesn’t want to deal with the serious talk that needs to happen. “But maybe that’s a little bit of a lie… maybe it’s only half of the truth,” Harry sniffles above him, and Louis has to shift so he’s more comfortable in the warmth of Harry’s lap.

“Please… just, this isn’t the time.”

“But if I don’t say it now, you’ll never give me the time.” Harry says sadly, and he’s absolutely right… and Louis maybe hates himself a little bit for it. Because as soon as he’s well enough, he knows he should bolt. He should leave this curly haired heart breaker nestled on the ground and run for the hills. That’s what safe, but something like a magnet and weights are holding his body down, holding his body close to Harry and it doesn’t help that his skin is so warm, so sweet smelling and so familiar.

“So, in order to confess your wrongs, you wait until I’m vulnerable.”

“You’re not so innocent either,” Harry says it, but there’s no malice behind his voice and that kind of surprises Louis. “I could apologize to you a million times, Louis Tomlinson, and you’d never listen. You don’t like to listen,” and he chuckles a little despite himself. “You like people to show you, like when they hold you close and talk you up. You like when people look at you, when they react to you.” He kisses Louis forehead cautiously, “You’re not willing to talk, I get it… so you don’t have to say a word.”

“Harry –“

“Just let me help you.” And he says it smoothly, lips moving slowly but surely and he says nothing for a while. “That’s all I want… just let me help you.”

“I can’t ask that of you-

“You’re not asking, I am. I want to, I love those little girls and Ernest just as much as you do Louis, and you know that.” He breathes out, almost as if he’s afraid. “If you won’t let me do it for you, let me do it for them, let me do it for Jay.”

“Fuck you.” Louis says, saying her name like a punch in the gut and after all they’ve been through, after all the shit that they’ve dealt with and the mistakes and the tears and the fights, he still doesn’t get it. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” And he makes to climb out of Harry’s hold, but there’s that weight again, holding his body still so he just hits his chest, hits it as hard as this weird angle will allow. And Harry just takes it, with a slight wince here and there, and a bitten lip and red eyes but he doesn’t utter a word, doesn’t try to make Louis stop.

But he tires quickly, breathing heavily and crying harder and then, he just buries himself into Harry’s neck and they’re so fucked. They’re so fucked because one of them is just going to end up getting burned in the end, because they’re a flame that just can’t be tamed and their going to destroy everything in their path and Louis knows that, but he can’t help but cling to him, mumbling nonsense against the warmth of his neck, mixed with sweet kisses that make him feel safe and sick all at once.

Harry pulls him back just the slightest, just enough that he can look Louis deep into his cerulean eyes, pale in the dark light and he inches their face as close as he can get, their noses bumping, their foreheads leaning together, their lips ghosting one another’s and he whispers, “I’m so sorry.” And there are a million things running through Louis’ head at the moment, so many things this man holding him could be sorry for but he isn’t granted much time to think it over because Harry is kissing him.

Kissing him slowly, and deeply, and passionately and everything suddenly feels different, like it’s all falling into place but Louis knows that can’t be it… but It has to be because he hasn’t kissed another soul since this man left his side, walked out of the front door with a bag slung over his shoulder, tears in his eyes and his car keys clasped tightly in his fingers – knuckles white, and he stared at Louis as if he was supposed to beg him to stay.

And that just makes Louis fucking mad, that just makes Louis grab his face and kiss him harder because what the fuck are they doing? What the fuck are they going to do? How is Louis going to ever recover when he’s ruined for anyone else? When he’ll always be searching for a touch like this, for a kiss like this, for someone to navigate him and his mind and his body the way only Harry can?  
He pulls back in a heist, breathing deeply, red swollen lips and crimson eyes and he just stares at Harry from where he finally gathered the strength to pull away – but the spell hasn’t broken. His body is fighting to be close to him again, his mind screaming and his heart crying, it’s almost too loud.

It’s almost painful.

“How do I know?” Louis says, demanding, tone full of something he can’t quite establish himself. “How do I know you won’t up and leave me again?”

“Darling, you’re always going to hold this over my head, but you walked away first Louis.” And Harry climbs to his feet, standing a few feet away from Louis – his body shifting forward and Louis guesses he feels it to, the need to be close, the need to be touching. 

Harry studies the curious, hurt expression on his face and he takes a careful step forward. “Dammit Louis, this whole time you’ve concocted this idea that I just left. That you were the only person hurt in this situation, when that isn’t even close to the actual truth – but I’ll let you have that. I don’t want it. I’m not the victim. I know that, but do you? We were both wrong, we both fucked up. I’ve accepted that and here I am, trying to change it. Do you remember, I never want to see you again? Do you remember, I fucking hate you, you cunt. Do you remember, whenever I need you, you’re fucking gone! You piece of shit. I wonder who you’re fucking now. Do you know how much that fucking hurt to here? I never cheated on you! You may have stayed in the flat Louis Tomlinson, but you fucking left first. You were already gone by the time I started packing and I knew that.” Bruised cherry lips say the words faster than Louis has ever heard him talk, his voice high pitched and Louis just stands there with a dumb look on his face, emotions written all over his cheekbones, his lips, hidden in the tears that fall from his eyes because… had he really said all those horrible things?

“I didn’t – I … I didn’t mean any of that…”

“You meant it.” Harry says, self-deprecatingly. “You’ve never looked at me like that before…”

“If you knew you weren’t wrong… why are you apologizing?”

“Does it really matter?” Harry throws his hands up, lightly, no weight behind it but he looks worn out, tired, the green in his eyes growing light – as if he’s reliving that night. That last night in the living room… the last night Louis saw Harry, and his heart had never ached more in his entire life – besides this night tonight. “Fuck… I kept hoping you would change your mind, hoping you would tell me not to go. You want to know what you said. Fucking go, okay? I’m sick of looking at you. I’ll be so much better without you.” You think I don’t know that you cried yourself to sleep that night, but I know, because I stayed in the garage the whole night and I heard you.”

“Stop, please stop.” And it’s like Louis is being hit with a freight train, all the memories of their past flashing before his eyes and all the missing parts of the night finally clicking and fuck… he had been wrong. He had been completely wrong. “But… Grimmy told me…”

“You know, the worst part is, you were right about him.” Harry chuckles darkly, stepping a few more careful steps forward – and then he’s standing right in front Louis, looking down at him and he grabs his chin, smoothing the skin there with the pad of his thumb. “I had nowhere else to go… you did that Louis, you did. You were right; he didn’t like the thought of sharing me either.”

“Did you… did you sleep with him?” Louis says quietly, self-deprecatingly, small; with his eyes cast to the floor, leaning in to the little contact Harry allows him. “I wouldn’t be mad if you did.”

Harry scoffs softly, and Louis knows he’s rolling his eyes - as he should be. “You don’t get the option to be mad, even if I did. You don’t get that luxury, because you all about pushed me into his arms.” Harry huffs, like he’s trying to stay mad and Louis knows, knows from so many years of being together that there’s a furrow in his brow, a cute pout to his lips - but he won’t meet his eyes… not until he answers the questions. He thinks he and Harry both know that. “You’d be happy to know I threw up all over his duvet… it’s fucked up really, because even when you had driven a knife through me, I still couldn’t stomach the thought of touching anyone else.” There’s a pause, a deep sigh and Louis can feel all the tension leaving his shoulders in an instant. “...and he kicked me out, so I went to go live with my mum and gem.” Harry explains, and Louis can’t help but sigh in slight relief when he’s not allowed to. He did that… Harry was completely right. “See what I mean? Both wrong…”

Louis kisses him, mostly to shut him up, mostly because he’s sick of not being close to Harry and he’s so fucking sorry as well, hopes he can push the words down his throat and into his veins, hopes they will pump through his heart and fill him up. “Fuck, I… I” and there’s another fit of tears, another damn breaking right at his fingertips and he’s crying, and he’s kissing him, and when he’s pushed into Harry’s warm neck – he’s kissing there to and mumbling all kinds of sorry against the skin and Harry lets him, just holds him close.

“Do you believe me now, Louis Tomlinson?”

“I don’t deserve you.” Is what he blurts, and the words are out before he can stop them, but he doesn’t take them back. Maybe somewhere deep inside him, the words ring true.

“I know.” Is what Harry whispers back, and he lifts Louis’ hand in his to kiss his knuckles, “Now, let’s get to your family, they need dinner and you can’t cook,” Maybe it was meant to be a joke, but neither of them laugh.

Louis let’s himself be lead towards the church doors by Harry, but then he shuffles to a stop.  
“Wait, there’s still so much we have to talk about.”

Harry just gives him a watery, lopsided smile, “You don’t like to talk.”

Louis has to wrap his arms around Harry and hug him, “But I want to this time. Some things clearly need to change if we’re going to do this… so, this is my give. I’ll talk.” And he means it, somewhere deep in his core he means it, and he needs to make this right.

Harry nods, eyes blazing like he can’t believe this is happening, like he’s falling in love all over again and maybe Louis feels it to. “Before we go, can I just, say goodbye?”

“Of course… I’ll head over there okay?” and Harry leans forward to leave a lingering kiss on his forehead, and he gives him one last look before he shuffles down the front steps and into his car. Louis hadn’t even noticed it there before, too caught up in his thoughts and his blinding sadness.

They seem to drown him now, surround him… because yeah, he’s happy maybe second chances do exists, but his mother is still resting in a casket – buried six feet under the ground. She always did have the best advice, so maybe he can just talk to her for a while – watch the sun dip in the sky and the trees dance in the muted wind. He can watch everything fall grey, and silent.

So he walks out back, sits on the dirt by his mother’s resting place and let’s a few tears fall into the dirt under his legs. “Hey mum.” He starts, as if it’s already been so long since he last talked to her – feels that way now. “Harry came, you now. I’m sure he misses you as much as I already do… even though I saw you just a few days ago. I already miss your cookies and your warm hugs and your advice and how we’d just sit on the couches in the living room and talk all night. You deserved so much better mum… a better husband… a better son. I know you’ll say, you’re the best son boo bear, but it doesn’t really feel like it.” Louis just let’s himself wallow in self pity for a couple of empty seconds, wipes a fallen tear from his eyes just as it had started to tickle his chin uncomfortably. “I’m going to do everything I can for them… I promise. They’ll grow up, and they’ll go to Uni mum I promise. And… I know you’ve always loved Harry too. I’ll keep him around, I’ll love him properly this time and the girls… they love him already, he’ll be so good for them. Keep their spirits high. But No one can replace you mum…” Louis wipes a couple of stray tears and takes a deep breath… “I love you, we all do, and we miss you…” He kisses the tips of his fingers, places them on the gravestone where his mother’s name has been engraved beautifully into the stone and he climbs to his feet shakily, ragged breathes leaving his lips.

He swears he can feel her warmth encasing him all over, as if she’d come back to give him one last hug - one last kiss on the cheek where her lips left marks that stung in only the way everlasting love between a son and a mother could do. As if she’s left her mark on him, let him know that she will always exist inside of him, in his memory, his heart and his soul. 

He feels it as he clutches his fingers, he feels it as he allows himself to smile down at her grave one last time, because it’s what she would want. She would want her life to be cherished and celebrated, all the way up until the last minute, and he intends to cherish it up until his.

But for now, it’s time to go home. For now, while he can still walk, and he can still breath, albeit not properly - he has a family to care after. So he gives a slight wave, promising under his breath to come and visit soon because this is not a goodbye, and he makes his way through the silent church to the large, closed doors of the building that suddenly make him feel so small. Unsteady hands push the door open, the light breeze of night tickling his nose and grazing the skin on his cheeks - surely to leave them pink.

He bits his lip, careful to take each step at a time, and he doesn’t even notice that he’s walking straight into the arms of someone - until a warm grip holds him steady, keeps him on his feet, and kisses the lining where his hair starts. He sinks into it, single tears rolling down his face but no heavy sobbing like before, almost a neutral state of sadness. One that will eventually fade to a dull ache in his bones, ever present but not as demanding.

“I’m not leaving you again… I just wanted you to know.”

**

Dinner has been served, cheese pasta with a side of garlic bread, strawberry lemonade for the kids, and cherry wine for the adults. It almost feels like a celebration, minus the talking and the general happiness that comes along with it. Dinner was mostly quietly, mostly forks scratching against plates and small slurps of fizzy drinks.

“Say thank you to Harry for the meal.” Is what Louis says quietly when everyone is mostly finished, and he’s surprised when a chorus of thank you Harry sounds around the room - almost as if he wasn’t expecting a response in the dead air.

He sucks in a breath In-Out, holding his eyes closed for a second too long and standing from his chair with a loud scratch against the wood - proceeding to grab the half empty plates. No one was much in the mood for food tonight, and Harry had taken no offense to that whatsoever.

“You okay doing this by yourself? The dishes have never been much your thing.” Harry says helpfully, having stood from his seat, which prompted the oldest siblings to flee from their chairs as well, claiming they needed to put Dais and Phob to bed. They all went to their respective rooms with no complaint, something that Louis isn’t used to. Something that makes his heart ache, and shorts his breathe if for only a moment. And he watches longingly after them, watches them disappear into the dark corridor and sighs sadly, shaking his head.

“No, no, I’ve got this. Can you just, put the twins to bed? Ernest will probably go down easy, but Dorest will need a bedtime story and some reassurance.” He doesn’t elaborate, and Harry doesn’t need him to. He simply walks towards the babbling toddlers, picks him up in strong arms and carries them down the hall to their room.

Louis focuses on the sound of splashing water as he dips his dishrag into the fresh warm water, coats it in soap and begins washing the dishes under a steady stream - sure to leave his hands pruney later, but that’s the least of his worries.

He tries not to think about how his mother would scold him from running away from cleaning at every opportunity, how he would bolt, claiming he needed to do homework, or anything else in the entire world except help his mum clean the kitchen. He thinks now that it isn’t so bad, that he wouldn’t have actually minded helping out, that he wonders what it is they would have talked about in the late night, quiet air after the girls had been sent to their rooms.

It’s in all this thinking that he loses himself, finds that he’s lost track of time once again - numb to any other feeling besides the ones running rampant through his veins, ones involving someone loved and someone lost - until he reaches into the warm water, and comes up empty - no more dirty dishes to clean.

It’s then that he’s brought back to the present, with his pruney fingertips, and his dampened shirt and the fatigue that’s slowly curling in his stomach, weighing his body down. So, placing that last dish in the drying rack, he flees off towards the twins room as he does every night - to give them a kiss on the forehead. But as he’s approaching the room, he see’s that the little night light is still clicked on, and Harry is bent against the side of Dorest’s bed, wiping tears from her cheeks and shooshing her softly.

He wonders if he should intervene, offer to hold the little one in his arms and maybe sing her a lullaby his mother used to sing to him - but Harry seems to have thought of something along those lines, because he pulls her from the small bed and holds her in his arms as closely as possible, whispering into her little ears. Indulging her.

“Mama,” He hears her cry out softly, it’s weak and desperate but it goes softer with every slow movement Harry makes.

“She’s in the sky now little one, dancing and singing with the angles.” Harry supplies, and fuck if that doesn’t bring a new wave of tears to Louis’ eyes, a new wave of nausea to Louis’ stomach. “Would you like to hear what she sings?” And at the hiccup that comes from Dorest’s small pink, parted lips, Harry chuckles softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She leans her head against his shoulder sadly, as if waiting for what he’ll do next. Louis feels himself on edge as well, as if he needs the reassurance just as much as she does. “Rest your weary on my shoulder… close your eyes… little one.” He begins to sing softly, rugged, and soft at the very same time - mixed in a deepness that rolls smoothly off the tongue of an angel. Louis isn’t sure how his knees haven’t hit the floor. “The night is only getting colder… surrounding us.”

“If you’re all I have left in the world… that’s enough for me. My little angel, my sunshine, lay your head to rest and sleep.”

Dorest’s eyes have drifted closed, and she grips at Harry’s shirt the way Louis imagines he would if he were in her place, if Harry were holding him at this very moment.

“You can fly away from this place, go on adventures you’ll never see here. You can be as big as you want, as tall as you’d like in your mind. My little one, hold my hand tight, and fall asleep tonight.”

The little sniffles that flow through the room are the only other sounds besides harry’s soothing voice, no other moment present in the space and Louis’ feels as if he isn’t breathing. It’s as if everyone is listening to him, silent in this moment to let his voice ring through and ease some of the tension in their limbs. It feels like finally being able to take in oxygen after his lungs had failed.

“I’ll sing you this lullaby, and I will kiss your head goodnight. You will smile, even with your eyes shut tight… before you're gone. No longer mine.” Harry breathes, his lullaby coming to an end and Louis almost wishes this specific moment could last forever. “Hold my hand tight… and fall asleep tonight.” He sings quietly as he moves to lay her against the warmth of her covers, tucking her into little duckling sheets and clicking off the nightlight. “Darling don’t fight… just fall asleep tonight.”

Harry kisses her so gently on the forehead, as if he loves her as his own, as he feels the pain she feels somewhere deep within his being, cutting down to his very core and Louis believes it to. Believes every emotion playing on his face, because if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed about Harry Styles, it’s how open he allows himself to be. Especially with things much more fragile than he is.

Louis meant to walk away, he swears he did, but he got caught up in the suffocating moment. Harry only smiles at him, it’s small and it’s barely there and it’s filled with so much dread and sorrow, but it’s present. And that’s enough. For the time being, that’s enough.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Harry says, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist so he can lead him down the corridor to where his room lies - empty and desolate, cold and lonely - except, not tonight because tonight he’ll have strong, warm arms to hold him until he can fall asleep. Until he has cried himself out, and left himself hollow. Until he has gotten every regret and insecurity off his tongue and that’s all he thinks about as he’s walked into the room.

He doesn’t even flick on the lights, just simply leads Louis to the bed he knows so well, to the sheets that smell like him and the clothes that cover the floorboards. To the pictures pinned to the walls, ones he’s glad he can’t see right now, and he strips quietly and crawls into the large bed. And he waits for Harry to do the same, and follow him in.

“You okay?” And he doesn’t have to see his face to know that Harry has just winced at his own dumb question, but Louis just takes a deep breath, pulls every bit of strength from every bone and crevice in his body and nods his head, he knows Harry can’t see but it he does it. More for himself than anything.

“I’m all ears.” Is what he does say when he finally speaks, and he’s betrayed by the way his voice cracks in the middle of such a little statement, but he stands firm by it. Wants to talk, wants to fill the night with their soft voices and the movement of their lips and he wants to fall asleep with his heart a little less heavy.

“No, no talking tonight.” Harry says, and Louis almost wants to argue, “Tonight is for her… and I would never be so selfish as to take that away. I’ve done enough tonight.”

“I think you saved me tonight.” Louis admits quietly, does it anyway, because if nothing else is said. He atleast has to get that off of his chest. “I don’t know what I would’ve done with you… I don’t if I would’ve been strong enough -”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life saving you if I have to.” It’s loaded, much to loaded for the amount of emotions swirling around the room but it’s what he asked for, and he’s grateful he got it.

“I know.” Louis whispers, feeling the last of his resolve die and the drowsiness start to pull him in. The last thing he feels before he dips off into sleep, into a place where things don’t hurt as much, he feels a leg being thrown over his waist and a nose nuzzling into the underside of his jaw, and he can’t help but notice it feels a little more like home.

**

The next couple months don’t go by quickly or easily. There’s still days where they hold a bit of weariness to speak, dust settling over the untouched places where conversation used to flourish, little girls used braid one another’s hair. Even Dori and Ernie seem to be feeling the heavy sadness that lingers through the air, refusing to eat most days, throwing their toys aside and just wanting to be held in silence - watching everything move around them.

So that’s what they did, with Ernie nestled in Louis’ lap and Dori in Harry’s and they would rock the both of them back and forth while Harry sung his soft lullabies and the little ones were lulled to sleep.

As for Louis and Harry… there wasn’t much talking between them either. Just the required amount of whispering to get their points across. Make sure one another showers, eats, the necessities really. The older siblings were allowed a week from school, with the exception that they were sent home their work and they completed it - so they wouldn’t fall behind.

Harry is Louis’ literal knight in shining armour when it comes to them, because he’s patient enough to wait on them, patient enough to sit with them in silence until they feel like they can speak again. He helps them complete a unit every day, making sure they won’t fall behind or be left confused upon returning to school.

His mother’s name isn’t dare uttered either, avoided like the plaque and everyone kind of tip toes around it. Like a puddle spilled against a particularly drenched part of the pavement on a rainy day.

The house is always on edge.

And as always, today was just as any other day, until it wasn’t.

With Louis sat against the worn couch cushions as he always is, a sleeping Ernie nestled in his lap - with a curly haired boy next to him, staring at the walls as if they had something to offer him, life lessons he couldn’t learn on his own, Dorie nestled in his lap, gripping his shirt as she had grown to do. And then there’s noise, actually noise, and Louis first thought isn’t to be worried about if the noise will wake the little ones.

“What’s going on?” He calls over his shoulder, Harry’s eyes widen as the babies start to stir in their laps, and shit, right, sleeping children on his chest. And it’s like, from that one moment of sound, the spell is completely broken, fallen and shattered on the ground and it’s like Louis can breathe.

The twins are whining from being woken in he and Harry’s lap, a chorus of shooshing sounding them, and then Louis is on his feet, ready to put them in their beds to finish their naps just as Daisy and Phoebe come bounding into the room - Lottie and Fizzy opening their bedrooms doors, just as startled as Louis.

“Give me a minute girls, I have to put your younger siblings down before they cause a scene,” and Louis actually chuckles, after months of suffocating silence, he actually chuckles and it doesn’t hurt him to do so. He’s sure the half smile looks weird on his lips, like it’s cracking broken parts into wakefulness but he’s proud of it. “Go on to your sisters Lou, i’ll put them down.”

“Are you sure,” Louis asks worriedly, seeing the blinking of Ernie’s eyes as they speak, but Harry nods vigorously and ushers him away - closing the door to the twin’s room. Did he just get kicked out of his own siblings room? Whatever, he’ll deal with that later.

What he needs to deal with now is, what all the ruckus is about. He’s relieved, a heavy sigh filtering over the sigh and the weight being lifted as the noise continues - and Louis never thought he would reveal in it. The sound of excitement and high pitched squeals, youthfulness and fun. Didn’t even realize how much his heart ached for it until it was right in front of him.

He enters the living room, and the girls come bounding towards him - even Lottie and Fizzy have amused smirks on their faces that look a little funny and a little suspicious, but Louis goes right to the source. “Is there a reason you almost woke your baby sister and brother, young ladies?”

“Louis! We got invited to Jake’s party!” The twins begin gushing again, Louis only catching bits about nail polish and makeup, makeup? What outfits to wear, and which of them gets to talk to Jake first. Louis decides that he’s having none of this.

“Who’s Jake? And neither of you are wearing makeup, so you can kiss that dream goodbye. You’re staying young forever and that’s final.” He chimes in, causing them to roll their sparkling blue eyes, but they give him a sweet smile, so really, it’s a win. “When is this party?”

“It’s on Saturday! Can we please go Lou! It’s at the park twenty minutes from our house!” Daisy begs, fingers interlocked together pleadingly, large pout on small lips and eyes wide.  
“Yeah! Please Lou, Lottie can drive us!” Phoebe tacks on, now down on her knees as if that would somehow further her point.

“Yeah Louis I don’t mind, we’ll get out of the house and leave you and your hubby to work some things out.”

“What’s this I hear about a hubby?” And Harry’s smiling, all casual and beautiful in all his glory. He walks straight over to Louis’ side, as if they were connected at the hip and smacks a light kiss on his forehead. “Dori, of course, was the one who needed a story, but I think we should do something about your language Lou. She’s starting to pick up some of those words.” He frowns cutely, and Fizzy only winks towards the two, as if this is a sure fire way to get Louis to agree to their spontaneous plans.

“I see what you’re all doing here.” He glares lightly at the two, no weight or malice behind his eyes and they giggle into one another, Harry looking confusedly between the exchange, just as oblivious as he’s always been. “And what do you suppose we do with Ernie and Dori?”

“I’ll drop them off at nan’s house.” Lottie says, easily, and Louis eyes her suspiciously - arms crossed over his chest. He needs to maintain some kind of authority.

“How long have you little brats been planning this?”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re trying to convince Louis to let Lottie drive Dais and Phob to Jake’s party on saturday, so you two can have some alone time.” Fizzy gets out before anyone can cut in, and Louis has to literally smack himself in the face and hope that this is just a nightmare. Or a dream, a really fucking fantastic dream with a plot twist.

“I don’t see why not Lou -”

“Oi! Don't encourage them, who’s side are you on!” Louis says, throwing his hand over his heart, mock offended.

“I’m on no one’s side, I just think it’d be a bit of fun for the girls to have a day out. Yeah?” Harry leans in close to whisper the next part, “We could have that talk you were so insistent on all those months ago.” And yeah... Louis thinks he’d quite like to settle everything, clear the air, love each other properly and all that.

“Okay,” Louis sighs, his shoulders slumping; the girls already bursting into cheers as he gets out. “Fine, fine. But text me hourly updates, are you listening to me? If anything happens, does everyone know my cell phone number? Hey listen to me, you all know the number for emergencies is 9-9-9, repeat it with me, 9-9-9 -”

“Calm down Lou, we’ll be alright.” Lottie reassures him with a pat on the back and a small kiss to the cheek, like she’s in awe of everything happening around her and she’s thankful. Thankful he’s still here, looking after all of them. He can see it in her bright, round blue eyes, can see it in the nervous tilt of her lips, can see how thankful she is that he didn’t let their family fall apart. How proud she is.

And as much as he would love to take all the credit, it wasn’t him at all. It was Harry who was the glue that held this family together, kept them strong through a time of pain and neediness, and did so without complaint.

“I miss mum.” Daisy says quietly, suddenly, but Louis decides that he can’t let that phrase put a cold dark blanket over his family anymore. That they should embrace the fact that they openly miss someone they love dearly, and it shouldn’t be avoided. It should be a healing process. Loved and lost but never forgotten. So he gets down on one knee, opening his arms wide for everyone to squeeze into.

“I miss her too, little bug.” And he squeezes them, wonders how Harry managed to fit himself in between everyone but he makes no complaint because these are the people he loves the most. This is his family, and he wouldn't change a thing.

“But it’s okay,” Phoebe says, smile on her face. “Because she’s still here. In here,” and she points to her little heart, and with watery eyes and a teary smile, Louis nods slowly, “and she misses us too.”

**

As Saturday rolls around, so does a new form of dread.

The house is empty again, but with the promise of bright smiles, sunshine and fun - and Louis is left to pick up the broken and misused pieces of a puzzle he had long ago locked away in his basement - but has now re-emerged and reclaimed his most prized possession. His heart.

Harry waits patiently for Louis to blink his eyes open, but Louis is turning over in the shared warmth of their bed, doesn’t want to open his eyes yet but he’s stalled enough. After sending the girls away with hugs and kisses, Louis had practically begged that they took a nap before sorting through all their ashes, because Louis still doesn’t like to talk. 

Somethings never change.

But it’s been three months since they’ve been wrapped up in each other once again, forced together by the loss of his mother, and really, he’s stalled enough.

So with much dread, he finally rolls over - which happens to be on top of Harry - and blinks his eyes open, being greeted with an eyeful of blinding yellow sunlight and a beautifully sculpted face that held pink lips and bright pale green eyes.

Harry is something odd and out of place, like a sunset in the middle of the day. Beautiful, alluring, tragic but everything you’ll need all wrapped in one and maybe that’s why Louis sinks into the warmth of Harry’s bare chest and fans his eyelashes against the skin with each open and close of his eyelids.

“Good Morning.” Harry chuckles, his voice heavy with the sleep he’d just woken up from. He couldn’t have been awake for more than a few minutes, judging by the heaviness in his eyes. “You feel up for a proper breakfast?”

“No, just cuddle me. Don’t wanna move yet.” Louis mumbles against the skin of Harry’s chest. “Wanna talk.”

“The kind of talking we need to do is with both of us present, facing one another and completely serious about the topic. You however, are a grumpy sleepy kitten right now, and I don’t mind waiting blue. You can’t be lazy forever.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” Louis isn’t going to acknowledge that this is the first time Harry has called him blue in over a year. He isn’t going to acknowledge how his stomach swallows his heart hole, or how blood rushes through his veins and pulses in his ears.

“It isn’t.” Harry chuckles, raspy, beautiful, all rough edges and softness rolling into one. He leans down to kiss Louis’ feathery hair, and Louis sighs before lifting himself up and stretching - allowing his body to sit crisscross applesauce in the sheets that sigh under his weight, and greet Harry's cheek with a good morning kiss when he sits up too.

“Ah, looks who’s finally up.” Harry chuckles, and Louis pokes him with his toe. “Here comes the sun, do do do do, here comes the sun, and I say, it’s all right.” He mocks sings loudly, way too loudly for it to only be noon - and Louis all about just kicks him off the bed. The tosser.

“Are you quite finished.”

“Yes, jesus fuck. That fall would’ve killed me.”

“I would have kissed it better, no worries,” Louis chuckles, and they both just laugh for a little bit; looking into one another’s eyes because they can, because it feels good to finally laugh and be close to one another with minimal worries and weight crushing their shoulders. Every breath doesn’t feel like a caged animal trying to break out. It’s nice.

“So, where do we start?”

“From the beginning.” From Louis’ curious glance, Harry chuckles a bit and makes to explain. “As to not cause any arguments, how about we ask each other questions. Starting from the moment we first laid eyes on each other, and on.” And, it actually doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.

“Okay, humor me. You start.” Louis says, little challenge in his tone because he doesn’t know how anything will get solved from this but he’s willing to try. If it means having Harry wake up next to him everyday for the rest of his life - he’ll try.

“Okay… where did we first meet.” Harry says easily, like he’d been thinking up this little idea for a while now, had it all planned from the first question to the last.

“We met at that arcade down the lot from the cinema. I remember because we were both to scared to see the new scary movie that had just come out - and I was much too prideful to admit that. It was by the pacman machine that had just broken on me, and you offered to help. What a complete arse I was. You offer to help me and I drag you off to a bloody scary movie that made you piss yourself.”

“I did not piss myself!” Harry squeaks, right offended if the look on his face is anything to go by.

“Moving on, Where was our first date?” Louis asks, ignoring the slight glare Harry is directing at him, but he seems to forget all about his offense as he taps his chin thoughtfully, really thinking about the question.

“You were such a great first date, took me back to the bloody cinema to watch some action movie you wanted to see, and then you laughed at me when I spilt popcorn all over myself.” Harry frowns like a grumpy kitten, and Louis laughing at the memory as it floats into his mind.

“I helped you clean it off!” He defends his honor, because of course he does.

“Oh you mean by licking butter off my face? Yeah, thanks for that by the way.” Harry rolls his eyes, the sarcasm dripping off his tongue but that only makes Louis giggle more because he remembers a time when Harry was too shy, much too polite to make sarcastic jokes. He supposes Harry is just as corrupted as he is.

“Whatever, next question. Shoot!” Louis says playful, making his little fingers into a gun and pretending to shoot it. “Pew, pew, pew.”

Harry rolls his vibrant eyes playfully, blowing Louis a kiss which he pretends to catch. They’re so gone, it’s slightly embarrassing. “Where was our first kiss?”

“We were proper cliches weren’t we? It was after the date, I remember because it was bloody pouring. and I walked you up to your porch, like a proper gentlemen. Little Harold decided to grow some balls, and you leaned in kissed me. Sappiest most disgusting story ever, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You want to relive it?” Harry says, smug smile on his lips - so of course Louis has to kiss it away.

“When was the first time you got mad at me?” Louis says against his lips, and Harry pulls back and openly scuffs at the memory they were both thinking. Louis is holding his stomach as he giggles, the night playing vividly in his mind.

“That time we snuck out and we got caught because you’re an absolute tool who can’t keep his mouth shut. I thought my mother was going to skin me alive when the office brought me up to my door.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault we got caught! I told you to run, but you’re so fucking clumsy that I had to keep turning around to make sure you wouldn’t trip over your own bloody two feet.” Louis tries to explain through his fit, his eyes glistening with baby tears.

“We were on a fucking roof! Running down a narrow corridor of stairs and you kept turning around because you forgot to tie your bloody shoes and I kept running into the back of you.” Harry deadpans, and Louis is sure he’s going to die of laughter in this very moment.

“Where was our first time?” Harry asks, sobering Louis up just a bit for his mind to catch up to the question - and then he’s smirking.

“You’re mum went out of town for the weekend, and you invited me to spend the night. My mum said yes because they didn’t know we were dating yet. You didn’t even have the decency to take me to your bed Harold, you stole the lube from your sister's bathroom - i didn’t even want to know why she had that in there - and we lost our virginity on your mother’s virgin white couch.”

“That was still iconic.”

“Don’t I know it, babe.” Louis chuckles, blinking his eyes cutely at a chuckling Harry.

“Where did we go on vacation?” Louis asks, shaking with excitement.

“Depends on which one, there was our trip to Italy. Would love to go back one day, there was our trip to Venice where we had that really good romantic dinner, with the live music remember? And the lady who kept ordering us drinks,” Harry chuckles, resting his hand on Louis’ thigh. “And of course, we can’t forget about our trip to Florida. It was so bloody hot, and you insisted that we spend our days on the beach everyday. You were so convinced that dolphin wanted to have at it with you.”

“Did you see the way he was eyeing me! I’m surprised you weren’t jealous.” Louis scoffs, he swears he has a slight of fear of dolphins ever since that event - but refuses to get counseling to work through his “issues.”

“Okay, here’s a hard one. When did we make it official?” Harry asks, a look on his face as if he’d stumped Louis.

“I’m offended, why is this even a question?”

“You called me yours a while before he actually made it official Louis.” Harry explains, and moves his hand in a motion for Louis to hurry up and answer the question.

“It was that fateful day of February 22nd, when we went to the park and you kissed me under the big oak that you named Mila. I asked you to be my boyfriend, like for real, and you said yes. As if I would forget, I was the one who asked,” He scoffed lightly, but he knows his face probably mirrors the soft one Harry has on his. “I could never forget.”

“I know Lou… me either.” Harry grabs Louis’ hand, to kiss the knuckle softly and breathe against them. As if he was trying to breathe louis in.

“What did we do for our first year anniversary?”

“Jumped in the bloody lake like blummin idiots. Do you remember we had to take three showers? And somehow the lines, ‘Save water, shower together.’ Worked on me at the time.” Harry and Louis are both chuckling once again, so much fondness resting in the depths of blue eyes.

“You better believe that that was one of the best blow jobs you’ve ever received in your life.”

“Eh, I think you could do better, especially now that I know what that tongue of yours can do.”

“Ah, you cheeky boy, nows not the time.” Louis winks, mouthing the words later, as if there was someone around who could catch him in the act, and that’s the thing he loves really - that fact that he and Harry have the ability to form this bubble around themselves, never growing bored or tired or the other. Where they could sit and talk for hours, or even just lay together silently and still enjoy each other’s company. Enjoy eachother’s heat.

“What was the best gift you’ve ever received from me?” Harry asks, genuine curiosity but really, Louis has no trouble answering this one at all.

“Definitely the one where we had a picnic down by the lock bridge? Locked our names on there, promises of forever… and then you got me that frame with the two spoons that said, and I quote, “Spooning since February 22nd” Which, of course you would find hilarious, but I found mostly endearing as hell.”

“That was a brilliant idea Louis, no denying it.”

“I’m not denying it.” Louis raised his hands in mock surrender, pulling Harry closer by his hair until their lip met in the middle, Harry licking filthily into Louis’ mouth - causing him to jump in mock outrage. “Filthy, filthy animal.” But Harry only smirks, proud of himself.

“Alright, alright. What did we plan to do when we were young?”

“We wanted to go on a roadtrip across the UK, I remember when we both got those really shity, low paying jobs and we collected pounds in a jar and we swore we were going to do it one day. We had blankets set aside, a list of snacks we absolutely had to have and i made so many playlists for it.”

“Yes, all your indie hipster music and your soft rock.”

Harry doesn't get offend, just smiles at him shyly, “I wanted to a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.”

“That you are babe, that you are.” Louis laughs lightly, the room settling into a light bubble of little smiles and empty silence until Harry parts his lips to speak.

“What did Grimmy say to you?” Harry says cautiously, suddenly, putting a halt to the easy conversation and soft laughter that filtered around the room only moments before, “You never actually told me what he said…” 

“All kinds of nasty things really… we had gotten in a fight Haz. And we had never fought that bad and I thought for sure you wouldn’t want me anymore, and it was like he was confirming all my fears. Said that I made you cry, that I was a wanker for hurting you, that I was a piece of shit would didn't deserve love. He wouldn’t let me talk to you or anything… and I felt like shit. Then, he said he was going to hold you close all night, kiss all the sadness away. I lost it. I thought… I thought you had made up your mind, I didn’t know.”

“Okay well none of that’s true.” Harry says, distant look in his eyes and Louis can feel some of the tension leaving his bones. “Yeah... I did cry but he must’ve found that out from Niall because I didn’t cry in front of him. I went to Niall’s and stayed there all day… and then I came back for you, to talk, to fix it and you wouldn’t let me.”

“It wasn’t even that though.” Louis says quietly, his stomach beginning to churn once again with the thoughts. “That I could deal with… I… He said something in particular, something only I should know about you.”

“What Lou, what did he say?”

“He said,” Louis winces, “That he would suck so many bruises into your thighs, right over the L you’ve gotten tattooed on your inner thigh and I… why does he know that H? Why has he seen that?”

“I had no idea he knew about that.” Harry looks just as horrified as Louis feels, “I can’t believe, he must've seen it while I was sleeping over or something, the fucking creep. Lou you can’t… you don’t still blame me for that right? I’m sor-”

“No, no, I believe you. You’re telling me, right here, right now, that you didn’t know about it. It hurt me, bad, but it’s in the past. I have nothing to forgive you for if you say you didn’t know.” Louis let’s his shoulders sag then, a weight off his shoulder, “That’s why it made it so hard to listen… I thought somehow else had seen the most fragile part of you and it broke me. To know I wasn’t the only one.”

“You are the only one.” Harry pulls him close, so close that Louis is practically in his lap. “I love you, and only you and that L, that’ll be there forever. That’ll be your name inked into my skin, in a sensitive and hidden place for only you.” And their kissing once again, slow and languid but with meaning. With the purpose of shedding insecurities and misunderstands to make a new path. A clean one.

“What did he say to you then? When you went to his house.” Louis’ll admit, it still stings knowing he went to the one person that Louis was afraid of in the first place. But he knows Harry felt as if he had no choice, no where else to go, and ultimately, Harry didn’t do anything more to hurt Louis - not even after the way Louis hurt him.

“That he loved me.” Harry starts, voice small, mouth turning as if he’d tasted something bad. “That he could love me better than you ever did, that he could make me feel good, make me forget. That he would always be there, and a bunch of other gross things I won’t repeat. I won’t even lie… I wanted to forget. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me, but I couldn’t. I could never…”

“I know babe, I know. Me either.” And Louis leans his forehead against Harry’s now, revealing in the small slither of silence, of shared air between the two of them. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Do you still love me?” Harry says it so small, so unsure, like the last three months of falling asleep, waking up next to each other, brief morning kisses and desperate blowjobs here and there weren’t enough to reassure him that Louis wanted this. Wanted him as a permanent part of his life.

“I love you so fucking much… I never stopped.” Louis says it like he’s out of breath, like it’s the most important thing he has to say, “I would be nothing without you.”

 

The way Harry sucks Louis’ skin between his lips has Louis gasping for air he previously had. It leaves him digging his nails into the bare skin of Harry’s back, raking his nails down his very spine, wrapping his leg around Harry’s torso to bring him closer, closer, closer.

Harry continues his tortuously slow movements of in and out, shallow and deep, and whine after whine only eggs him on, touch after touch only makes the fires under his skin burn brighter and his orgasm begins to curl and clench tight in the muscles of his stomach - coiling, and coiling.

He knows Louis is close, he knows from the high pitched ‘uhs’ leaving his parted lips in bursts of air, he knows from the constant attention he’s paid to the boy's prostate, from the pressure and angle of each thrust as he pins his boy to the bed, ducks hi shead to leave a canvas of purple and startling red against his neck, on the underside of his jaw and on his gorgeous collar bones.

He knows from the way Louis leaves scratches down his back that are sure to sting and itch in the morning, sure to burn the bright red that Harry has stained on Louis’ neck. “I’m so close, Harry please,” He moans out so softly, it actually startles Harry - leaves him in awe.

Harry swirls his hips to push in deep, Louis crying out from the pressure, from being so close, from being pushed to the edge and left at Harry’s command. As much as Harry would love to drag this out, would love to fuck into him slowly until tears ran down his cheeks, and his sobs of begging were only soft whispers from his lips - but he wants to watch the way Louis’ face contorts as pleasure courses through him.

So, prying his lips away from Louis’ skin, he reaches up and places his right hand on the headboard - gripping it tightly and he looks right into Louis’ half lidded eyes. “I love you,” Is what he says against Louis’ lips before kissing him passionately, slamming his hips into Louis and catching each moan and scream with his tongue.

The headboard knocked against the wall as if the police were trying to break into their apartment, and Louis’ face… god, his beautiful face scrunched up with the overwhelming pleasure they both hadn’t felt in such a long time until he was coming - the white sticky substance sprinkling like a waterfall from his cock before trickling down the side, and Louis was mouthing at Harry’s lips half-halfheartedly, too tired, his body to worn out to give any real effort.

Watching this alone has Harry spilling into the boy under him, his body plopping down on top of Louis and he gives his bruise neck soft kisses, murmuring how much he loves his boy against his skin.

“I love you too,” He says back tiredly, yawning like a little kitten and Harry is entirely gone for this boy. “Now cuddle me, and let’s go back to sleep.”

“One day, i’m not going to marry you Louis Tomlinson.”

“Not if I marry you first.”

**Author's Note:**

> I Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you do, it would be much appreciated (:  
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